


Determination

by agentandromeda



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, There will be more characters, Undertale AU, Undertale Spoilers, the major character death isnt permanent its like the whole respawn thing in undertale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentandromeda/pseuds/agentandromeda
Summary: Angus is two things. First: a detective. And second: an orphan and alone after the death of his grandfather. Alone and with nowhere to go, he decides to finally get to the bottom of the mystery of Mt. Ebbot. He finds far more than he bargained for: a home, a family, a barrier. And he becomes more than he planned for: a son, a friend, a hero.The Underground is not for the faint of heart. It requires determination. Fortunately, Angus has that in surplus.





	Determination

The bed of flowers broke his fall.

It was a very, very long fall, a fall that should have killed him regardless of any plant life. But still, there he was, unharmed, with golden flowers cradling his small body. They were so soft, with cool petals that brushed gently against his fingers. They smelled like cinnamon and rosewater. Like a particularly good tea. He could taste dust underneath the aromatic scent of the flowers

Angus sat up. The glow of the blue sky from the hole he had fallen through barely illuminated the small, rough-hewn room. It was barely a room, more of a cave chamber. He was so far down. It was cold, not in the way that the wind is cold, but that unique cold of underground, a penetrating chill that ignored his sweater and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. The corners of the chamber faded into darkness.

There was only one exit. He had no other choice but to move forward if he was ever going to get to the bottom of this mystery. He was scared, yes, but fear would do him no good.

The exit opened onto an oddly regular hallway. Angus’s steps bounced off the walls. He couldn’t hear anything else. It felt as though nobody had been down here in a long time, and yet the cave floor was free of dust. Perhaps caves by default just felt like that. Like pockets of time frozen underground.

At the end of the hallway was a door. Not a type of door Angus had ever seen before, except in his textbooks of ancient cities. But there it was, remarkably intact. Two pillars outlining an opening in the stone. He put his hand on the pillar. It was cold. He couldn’t see what was in the next room, just darkness. It felt like he had just passed through an antechamber, and this was what he had been looking for. After all, nobody was supposed to be down here. The monsters were merely a myth. Myths seemed a lot more real in the dark, and Angus almost turned back. After all, monsters were one of the more benevolent myths he had grown up learning about. Something far more sinister seemed to lurk at the edge of his vision, as if the darkness itself was waiting to consume him.

Angus stepped through the doorway. There was a light in the distance, illuminating a patch of grass and something yellow. 

He walked towards it, slowly at first, then faster. Grass was a comforting sight down here. But not one he had expected. Why was it so green, when sunlight had never pierced these caves? Still, it was familiar, and that removed some of his fear.

We fear the unknown, he reminded himself. Not even fear could escape from Angus McDonald’s analytical mind. He prided himself on being rational about his feelings.

As he approached, he saw that the yellow spot he had noticed was actually an abnormally large cup. A goblet, really. Golden like the flowers that had broken his fall. He had lost his notebook somewhere on the hike, so he made sure to file away every observation in his expansive memory.

The goblet turned to face him. Angus yelped and jumped back a little. Drinking containers were not supposed to turn and face people. And they especially weren’t supposed to have a face with which to do so. 

“Hail and well met!” it chirped. “I’m Alice! Alice the chalice.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Angus introduced. “I’m Angus McDonald.”

The chalice smiled.

“You’re a human, aren’t you? Fallen down? Golly, you must be so lost! Someone outta show you how things work down here! I guess little old me will have to do.”

“Thank you very much, ma’am!” Angus smiled. He was always ready to learn, but it was rare he found such a willing teacher. 

Then again, perhaps there was a reason for her selflessness. Angus had learned about ulterior motives at a very young age. 

“Down here,” Alice said, “we have a little something called magic. Do you have magic on the surface?”

Angus nodded. Alice grinned somehow. Her teeth were just a little too sharp. That was less unnerving than the fact that she was a chalice that had teeth.

“Well,” Alice continued, “we share magic and love down here through little white friendliness pellets!” A circle of small glowing dots appeared in a circle around her and started moving towards Angus. “Get as many as you can!” 

Angus didn’t. He was eager to learn, yes, but he was also very perceptive. Precocious, said some teachers. Obnoxious, said others with secrets they wanted to keep hidden. He hadn’t missed the glint in Alice’s eyes, nor her smile that was far from benevolent. And he had seen magic before. He didn’t know enough to use it, but he knew evocation when he saw it.

He stepped aside and let the pellets go past him. Alice frowned.

“Maybe you didn’t understand,” she corrected him. “Touch. The. Pellets.”

“Those look harmful,” Angus told her.  
“What are you implying?” That fierce cruelty behind the eyes was unmistakable now. Angus had been right. As usual.

“I’m implying,” Angus said, “that you’re full of horseshit.”

Alice frowned. 

“And you’ve never done this before, have you?”

“What does that mean, ma’am?”

A horrible toothy grin stretched across the chalice’s golden face, and pellets appeared in a circle around Angus.

“It means,” she said, “that I have only one lesson to teach you.” Her eyes went blank and soulless. Or just blank; Angus could see now that they’d been soulless all along.

“Kill or be killed.”

Alice laughed, and the sound grated against Angus’s ears. She didn’t stop laughing, not even to breathe. The pellets were closing in slowly from every direction. Angus knew Alice could move them faster. But he also knew Alice was savoring this. How many others had she killed?

He tried to run, but there were more and more pellets—no, bullets—around him, with not even an opening large enough for a small child like him.

He was going to die. Just like all the stories had warned. He tripped over a rock and fell backward, barely catching himself on his hands. Alice laughed even harder, even louder, even crueler.

Suddenly, Alice’s laugh was cut short by a blast of heat. A ball of fire hit the chalice and exploded into tongues of yellow flame. Alice squawked and fled. Somehow. Alice was a cup and therefore did not have legs. 

“God, I hate that thing,” Angus’s savior announced, striding into view. She was an elf, a creature from legend and superstition, with flowing brown hair and an even more flowing red robe accessorized with a careless smirk. “What’s shaking, my dude?”

“T-thank you, ma’am,” Angus stuttered. “You’re not going to try to kill me, are you?”

She laughed. “You’d be dead by now if I was.”

Angus looked at the grass, now completely charred away by the force of her fiery blast. “I don’t doubt it.” 

She offered a hand. Angus took it, and the elf woman helped him to his feet.

“I’m Lup. I help take care of this place. I come down here every day to see if anyone else has fallen down. Good thing I did, huh? Lup saves the day again.”

She started walking towards the far side of the room.

“C’mon, compadre. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”


End file.
